


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #2

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Barista Blaine, Crema verse, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pets, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fundamentallyunreal asked you: Crema prompt! I know it’s beyond predictable and I’m sure someone’s asked already, but I have to know if/when/how Kurt and Blaine got a pet. was there a gradual escalation of like fish/bird/gerbil/ferret/cat/dog? or did they jump straight in with a nice old fat cat like Chris did with Brian?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #2

Kurt is tired. 

He is tired, he is pissy, and he has a vicious papercut in the tender webbing between his thumb and forefinger that won’t stop throbbing painfully.  He just wants to curl up on the couch with his fiancé, find his favorite spot in the nook of Blaine’s throat, and stay there for a good long while.  Maybe for the rest of the goddamn week.  He has deadlines, he knows, and important projects coming up, but for the rest of the night, he doesn’t care about them at all.

Kurt unlocks the front door with a relieved sigh, toes his shoes off and lines them up next to Blaine’s scuffed Chucks, and hangs his coat up on the rack.  It’s the gorgeous white Ralph Lauren jacket from more than two years ago.  He’d found it draped over the back of his office chair one Monday morning last year, after he’d designed a particularly lovely gown for a friend of Carrie’s.  Cooper isn’t the only one with a generous heart.

There’s sweet piano music drifting from the record player, and Kurt can smell something baking away in the oven - something with cinnamon and sage and it makes Kurt’s mouth water in anticipation.

“Hey, you’re home!”

Kurt smiles gratefully at the sound of Blaine’s voice calling for him from the living room.  He can just see the top of Blaine’s head against the armrest of the couch; his curly hair is dark and wild against the lighter fabric and Kurt can’t wait to run his fingers through it.  His heart squeezes in his chest, the way it always does when he first lays eyes on Blaine after not seeing him for a while.  And a whole day spent at Vogue with incompetent buyers and an absent Art Director certainly qualifies as  _a while_.

Kurt comes around the side of the couch, eager to crawl into Blaine’s lap and close his eyes until dinner is ready, only to stop short.

There is something in his place - something tiny and tan and fast asleep on Blaine’s chest, curled up comfortably in his arms.

Blaine is stretched out on the couch, wearing a pair of worn jeans and an old t-shirt, and he is grinning up at Kurt, all white teeth and boyish joy.  “Hi,” he says casually, as if he’s not holding a puppy.  A puppy that was most assuredly not there that morning.  The cut in Kurt’s hand throbs again.  His evening is not going at all how he wanted it to.

“Blaine, dear,” Kurt begins, and he tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice.  He can’t bring his workplace stress home; he won’t.  “Please tell me you agreed to babysit that for Cooper for a few days.”  Kurt can’t imagine Cooper having the time to take care of dog, but he doesn’t put it past Blaine’s brother to get one anyway.

“Nope.  She’s ours.  I rescued her.”  Blaine grins down at the little puppy who has taken no notice of Kurt at all.  Kurt watches as Blaine strokes a thumb across a floppy, silky looking ear, and resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.  He hates to admit it, but he already knows how this is going to end.

“Where on earth did you find a puppy?”

“Someone left a box of them in the alley behind the store.”  Blaine curves up and presses his nose to the top of the puppy’s head.  “Some mean evil person tried to get rid of you, didn’t they?”  He rubs his nose in the puppy’s fur and Kurt folds his arms across his chest, partly just to keep from reaching out and petting the puppy, or Blaine’s soft hair, himself.

“We’ve never talked about getting a pet, let alone a dog.  Aren’t we supposed to start with Betta fish or something?  Walking sticks?  A plant.”

“But they were left there to die, Kurt.”  Blaine’s eyes are so huge on his face as he stares imploringly up at Kurt, and Kurt would be instantly swayed by those eyes if he hadn’t spent almost three years trying to get used to that look.  Blaine has gotten a lot of things out of him with the skilled use of those big eyes.  “They were going to get rained on!”  Blaine wobbles his bottom lip a little, and Kurt has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling.

It’s not even remotely true.  It’s March, and rainy days are just another part of a New York City spring, but the weather’s been strangely dry and sunny for more than a week.

Kurt wants to be mad.  They’re partners - they’re supposed to discuss things like this with each other.  They’re not supposed to just show up with a dog or a new car or a baby.  But Blaine wants so little, and asks for even less.  How can Kurt ever deny him the few things he does ask for?  Especially something as sweet and adorable as tiny ball of abandoned puppy?

“We don’t have a yard.”  Kurt tries - one last attempt to put off the inevitable - but Blaine just shrugs.

“We don’t have a  _fence_.  We could build one though.  That could be a fun project.  I rebuilt a car with Coop once.”  Blaine’s eyebrows raise with a sudden idea.  “We can take her for walks in the park!  Come on, who doesn’t want to walk a dog in Central Park?  She can chase ducks and fetch sticks.  We can teach her all sorts of fun tricks.  Kurt-” Blaine lets a few extra plaintive syllables slide into Kurt’s name and he curves his mouth down into a pout again. 

Kurt shakes his head and sighs, and he lets his arms fall to his sides.  He can just see the two - the  _three_ \- of them gamboling through the Park.  Blaine with tennis balls in his pockets and laughing as their dog bounds through the grass after squirrels.  He can see them at dinner, with the dog under the table, not-quite-begging for the scraps she knows Blaine, and Kurt, are going to give her.  And at night, when she sleeps curled up in the bed they buy for her and place on the floor of their bedroom.  He was always going to say yes to this.  As if he could ever say no to Blaine and his giant, stupid eyes.

“So it’s a girl?”  Kurt asks, by way of acceptance, and Blaine’s face lights up like a little boy coming down the stairs on Christmas morning to find every present he asked for waiting for him. 

“I checked - and I didn’t see anything I recognized.  So a girl she is.  You’re a pretty girl aren’t you?  Yes you are.”  Blaine slides careful fingers down the puppy’s back and she shifts against his chest.  Her paws are too big for her little body and Kurt wonders what he’s just agreed to.

“You’ve named her already, haven’t you?”  Kurt just  _knows_ that Blaine has.

“Pavarotti.”

“Pavarotti?”  The name, absurd as it is, rolls easily off his tongue.  “Is that really a name for a girl dog?”

“I never thought you’d be one to subscribe to gender-normative naming stereotypes.”  Blaine grins wolfishly at him and reaches a leg out to poke at Kurt’s hip with his bare foot.  Kurt grabs his foot and squeezes.

“Asshole.”  Kurt drops Blaine’s foot and kneels down on the couch between his legs.  “You know, she’s probably part pit bull.”

“Stereotypes, Kurt,” Blaine says chidingly, and there’s a damn twinkle in his eyes.

Kurt rolls his eyes and leans over Blaine’s lap, bringing himself down to face-level with Pavarotti.  He reaches out and carefully touches her brindled flank; she’s soft and warm and so very alive under his fingertips.  Kurt scratches gently behind her ear and her eyes blink open.  They’re a deep, golden brown and Kurt is already in love with her.  Of course he is. 

“Hi, Pav,” Kurt says and he can’t help but laugh when she licks tentatively at his fingers.

“She likes you,” Blaine sing-songs, and Kurt knows Blaine is going to gloat about this for months.

“You know, your daddy is in big trouble over this.  Big trouble.” 

There’s a sharp intake of air and Kurt looks up to find Blaine biting his lower lip and staring down at him with wide, dark eyes.  There’s something unnamable in his expression.  “What?”

Blaine just shakes his head.  “Nothing.”  He reaches out and curls his hand around the back of Kurt’s neck and pulls him up into a soft kiss.  “Nothing at all.”


End file.
